Rushing Back
by zalrb
Summary: This is a Bonkai/Stelena mashup piece in which Stefan and Elena figure out where they are in their relationship upstairs in his bedroom while Bonnie and Kai argue about theirs in the kitchen, leading to one explosive evening for both couples.


_"Can you tell me why we're cursed with this feeling that feels so natural and good? When we're together, God seems to sit in the room with us. And when you're away, I manage to forget you. And then … one touch of your hand and God comes rushing back."_

 _"God or the devil?"_

 _"Whatever it is that overwhelms."_

 _— Lucrezia and Cesare Borgia, The Borgias_

BONNIE

It had been two weeks since she'd seen him. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours. And Bonnie felt each hour, each minute, each second in her bones. The absence of his touch, his lips … it terrorized her with yearning, agitated her beyond rationality that she felt like she was going stir crazy within her own body. She'd been the one who called it off, determined that staying away would be good for her, clarify her mind, bring her back to who she was before she let herself be taken over by lustful hatred and vicious arousal. Ending things with Kai was meant to stop her self-loathing not increase it by colonizing her mind with longing for his rough sincerity and smug expertise. For the longest time she never understood the term 'burning desire', not really anyway. That is until she met him. Until she knew what it felt like to claim him, have him try and claim her. Until she experienced how physically devastating it was to refrain from him for even a day much less a fortnight. And now she was out of her mind with need, bereft and craving and it made her sick; unadulterated disgust tore through her with such violence it nearly drove Bonnie to tears. But it wasn't enough to stamp out the ache she had for Kai, for what he unleashed in her and Bonnie knew that if she stayed in her dorm room she'd do something stupid, something counter-productive.

And so she walked.

No phone, no car keys, she walked. And walked some more. The movement helped her somehow, alleviated the sensation that overcame her, the sensation like she was about to spontaneously combust. And after a while she found herself outside the Salvatore Mansion — something about it always called to her like a beacon or a haven and more times than not she ended up there when she needed guidance, which was odd since she'd been met with a lot of destruction there in the past; destruction of her body, of her psyche and most recently, of her soul. The only difference was the last one had been willing and it had been gratifying and it had been with Kai. Well, the others had been with Kai too and that was also the problem; being with him before _being with him_ had eroded most of who she had been before encountering him and it hardened her with menace, numbed her emotion and now _being with him_ , the same man who'd done this to her, was the only way she could feel anything with passion, with intensity and that meant revelling in the menace he'd amplified in her when he'd attempted to destroy her body and when he'd almost destroyed her psyche. And that was something unique to him. Bonnie had been picked apart before, picked apart by enemies of her friends, friends of her friends, lovers of her friends and her friends themselves but none of them had also been the glue that helped put her back together again. For some Godforsaken reason, Kai was both. And that was why she'd ended it and that was why she'd found herself in front of the Salvatore Mansion.

She'd go in. It looked quiet. Space and silence and solitude were all the things she needed right now. What she didn't know was that while the house was certainly quiet, it wasn't uninhabited and Elena Gilbert watched from a second storey window as she ambled up the driveway to the front doors.

ELENA

Elena was in Stefan's room. It felt like ages since she'd been inside it — well no, it felt like ages since she'd been comfortable in it. The summer he'd left, the summer she'd chosen Damon, she found herself in this room more times than she'd expected. Damon would be sleeping and Jeremy would be out and she'd come in here during these quiet moments to … remember; to pay silent vigil to the relationship she'd decided she'd outgrown in favour for the one she'd been in at the time.

It was a strange practice; she wasn't so naïve not to think so, but even when she and Damon buried themselves in each other during the day and again in the evening, Stefan was there, in the very back of Elena's mind, in the farthest corner of her heart, in the deepest pit of her stomach. She dared not utter a single word of it to Damon but Stefan was a part of her, a fundamental part of her, and she needed to feel close to him, needed to feel like he didn't hate her, and that was what the nights were for — nights of remembrance — until the sun came up because then the daylight belonged to Damon, to immediacy, to the lust between them.

Except now there was no sun and she didn't want the daylight to come either — all she wanted was to remember, relive, or well, live with him again, _be_ with Stefan again. If she was honest with herself, it wasn't a desire that really went away but rather one that grew smaller and smaller the more serious she and Damon became and then it grew so small she thought it disappeared for good. Then she'd see him with someone else; see him laugh with another woman, touch another woman, hear about him sleeping with another woman and it all came back in one painful and intense rush. She'd be overtaken with possessiveness, indignant jealousy, and the urge to yell, _He's mine!_ would itch at her lips until she remembered that he wasn't actually hers, not anymore, and then that realization, the realization that someone else would experience what it was to be loved by Stefan Salvatore filled her with profound sadness, which she had to force to the side because she had chosen his brother.

And choosing Damon had been … well, she didn't regret it because she had cared for him, she had loved him and she'd needed to give into that or the world's worst question — what could've been — would've haunted her, possibly forever. What she hadn't realized when she'd chosen him, though, was that what she felt was never in wholeness, it was half-love and thin devotion; it was the strong desire to make things work but the loud absence of fulfilment, nourishment … the absence of deep-rooted tranquility. That was why, two or so months ago, when the relationship had tried to burn itself out for the umpteenth time, Elena had allowed it to and had left Damon with an affectionate peck on the lips and didn't look back. Stefan had started checking up on her, then; at first in an attempt to convince her to yet again revive her relationship with Damon but soon after it was just to spend time with her. And Elena felt it, she'd felt it immediately much like when she'd first met him; she felt it in the ease with which she spoke to him about her doubts, about her dreams; she felt it in the warmth that blanketed her body when he smiled at her, when he gazed at her; she felt it in the relief that flooded her insides whenever she saw him walking toward her…deep-rooted tranquility; what she truly wanted.

Now she couldn't have it; not after everything she'd been through with each Salvatore. It would be too cruel to pursue. Elena Gilbert had, beyond any doubt, her final choice and she couldn't make it. The irony devastated her to the point of physical numbness; she felt empty, _devoid._ The only comfort she managed to feel, she felt in Stefan's bedroom so she spent as much time there as she could, immersing herself in the memories their relationship had left behind. She'd been in the middle of thinking back to the night three years before when he'd urged her to speak about feeling something for Damon, when they'd ended up admitting to each other that they would always, no matter what, love one another and that was when she saw Bonnie out the window, heading into the house.

Moved by curiosity and excitement, Elena hurried out of the bedroom and rushed down the stairs so that she was on the bottom step when the door opened. Bonnie stood in the foyer, her eyebrows raised.

"Elena?" she said.

"Bonnie?"

STEFAN

It was impossible for Stefan to stay in the mansion for one more night; ghosts he'd thought had been long put to rest had resurfaced in the past few months and plagued the walls and floors and furniture with their presence. Everywhere he turned in that house, he saw her or heard distant echoes of her giggle, that knee-weakening giggle; he couldn't even bear to sleep in his bed anymore. Each time he did he was wrecked with memories of how it was to feel her, really _feel_ her, to have her beneath him and upon him and beside him and that killed him more than anything else.

So he was at a bar and he was drinking. But he was far from drunk. Unfortunately.

Stefan had always known that he would always love Elena. He'd known it from the moment he saw her; he'd known it when she'd chosen Damon and he still couldn't hate her; he'd known it from how fiercely he'd wished for her to be happy, to be fulfilled even if it wasn't with him, even if seeing her with someone else would absolutely, utterly tear him apart because that was better than her wallowing in sorrow for the rest of her life. Even before meeting her, he couldn't bear seeing her sad. But after a while, that everlasting love had faded into an abstract concept rather than a drive that ruled him and its vagueness had allowed him to move on, to pursue other relationships and feel deeply about other women…to feel deeply about Caroline.

It hadn't bothered Stefan that what he'd had with Caroline had been nothing like what he and Elena shared, in fact he'd enjoyed that; enjoyed the way Caroline's quirks both amused and annoyed him, enjoyed the feel of her blonde curls between his fingers, enjoyed that when he'd needed someone to talk to, to vent to, to freak out to, she was the person he thought of first. He'd loved her. Really, he'd loved her. And he still cherished her, the bond they'd formed with each other. It just wasn't enough. He'd realized it six months ago that what he and Caroline felt for one another was, for the most part, appreciation and gratitude; things that made him smile, that made their time together pleasant but that fell short of truly moving him, of thrilling him and steadying him at the same time, of making life itself a more enriched experience.

He'd only felt that once in his life. He'd only felt that when he'd been with Elena. And Stefan had come to terms with that, accepted that his time to experience the full effect of true, Honest to God Love, had come and it had gone and that he would never feel it again; it was OK because at least he'd been lucky enough to experience it at all. He'd ended things with Caroline because he couldn't be that guy, that guy who stayed with a woman he loved as much as he could but still not with his entire heart, and then he decided to leave what he felt for Elena in the past; a significant memory — the _most_ significant memory.

He really didn't think that it wouldn't stay a memory; that the well-healed scab of their relationship would rip open afresh into a gaping wound that agonized him. But Elena left Damon and Stefan found himself back in her life in a way he hadn't been since she'd started dating his brother and since he'd started dating her best friend. And he felt it. He felt it with such intensity and resoluteness and familiarity; he felt it in the way he flushed with longing whenever she said his name; he felt it in the calm that stilled his body whenever she looked him directly in the eye; he felt it in the pure joy that tickled his chest whenever he made her laugh…true, Honest to God Love. And now he was tormented with it, with memories of when he was able to freely feel that love, when that love was wanted, when _she_ wanted him; now that love had driven him out of his own house because all he saw when he was in it were the times he expressed it to her and she reciprocated.

Stefan guzzled the last of his whiskey; he'd had enough drinks that he was becoming morose and he was morose all on his own, he didn't need liquid help. He paid his tab and slipped off the barstool, putting on his jacket. He'd wallow and walk. At least then he'd be active.

KAI

Kai was in a back alley, outside of a bar, and he was covered in blood; it speckled his shirt in messy red splatters and pooled from his mouth in thick, oozing ribbons. The veins beneath his eyes were dark and raised and his eyes themselves were murky with gluttony. He'd fed for the tenth time that night and for the … hundredth, no second hundredth time in two weeks — his fangs stained scarlet from his conquests. The amount of blood he'd consumed in fourteen days was inconceivable, more than enough to put a ripper to shame; he tore jugulars and ripped apart veins and drank and drank and drank until he passed out or regurgitated it all back up only to move on to somewhere else so he could drink and kill and feed some more and yet … and yet …

And yet he couldn't free himself from thinking about her, from hungering for her. Kai gritted his teeth and let out a frustrated wail that tore through the air with raw savagery; _would he never be able to escape her?_ She'd left, ended things, and Kai cursed her when she did; condemned her to misery, to being inflicted and conflicted and ruined with want for him, them. He prayed with all sincerity that she'd be crazed with memories of their sultry nights together, of the way their scent hung ripe in the air whenever they moulded into one another. He just didn't expect he'd suffer the same curse; that he wouldn't be able to sleep or eat or breathe without obsessing over where she was, what she was doing and — Kai balled his hands into fists at this question — if there was _someone_ she was doing and who. It was beyond thinking about her or dreaming about her, she was in his blood and it screamed for her, making his skin, his lips, his hands, his _entire body_ crave for her touch with devastating ferocity that it was physically painful not to be near her.

But still he tried to ignore the agony, overpower it, rid himself of it. The memory of Bonnie Bennett's blood on his tongue, of his body hard against hers as his fangs sunk into the smoothness of her neck, elicited in Kai a ravenous must to feed and he rose to the occasion with a tenacity he only adopted when he was planning revenge.

It didn't matter.

He was insatiable, inconsolable. He'd never devoured or destroyed so much in his entire life but it still wasn't enough to slake his appetite; it was never what he wanted, what he _needed._ He realized then that feeding had become about more than blood since he'd tasted Bonnie; it had become about connection, about _emotion_ , about revelling in the most intimate part of her, and he couldn't get that from anywhere or anyone else. That enraged him. It frenzied him with fury that Bonnie plagued him with urges and impulses and cravings specific to her and her alone, only for her to starve him of her presence as punishment for being the one who awakened her. It compelled him to obliterate anyone and everyone unlucky enough to happen across his path, caused him to grab fistfuls of his hair and yell, _scream_ with frustration. It wasn't fair of her to do this, who the hell was she to do this, to act like she was the only one in whatever it was they were doing. No, he'd gone without her long enough; she'd had her fun, torturing him with her silence, with her absence and now it was time for him to have his say.

With little to no effort, Kai heaved the bloodless corpse he'd created into the rusted grey dumpster that was parked next to the back entrance of the bar. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and as he turned to leave the scene of his crime, he saw Stefan Salvatore leave the building and walk toward the woods. Kai couldn't explain why he felt like Stefan would lead him to Bonnie but he felt it with certainty and so he followed the Salvatore down the path.

EVERYONE

"Bonnie?"

"Elena?"

They both paused for a brief moment as they each wondered what the other was doing in the Salvatore Mansion. They spoke at the same time.

"Damon isn't here."

"Oh, I wasn't looking for Damon."

Bonnie laughed and Elena shook her head in amused incredulity.

"Who are you looking for if you aren't looking for Damon?" said Bonnie.

"No one," said Elena. Then she cocked her head curiously. "How do you know he isn't here?"

"His car isn't out front."

"Oh, right."

They stood in silence and regarded each other. Elena narrowed her eyes at how restless Bonnie was, at how frantic and harassed she looked and Bonnie raised her eyebrows at the vacant and withdrawn expression on Elena's face, it was like she was withering away.

"I think we could both use a drink," said Elena.

"I think you're right," said Bonnie.

Elena grinned and hopped off the last step, making her way over to the living room. She peered at the crystal decanters on the miniature bar. "There has to be something here that isn't bourbon," she muttered.

"Maybe in the kitchen?" said Bonnie.

"Yes! I think I saw a bottle of tequila there the other day."

"Works for me."

They both made their way out of the foyer and living room and in the kitchen Bonnie started slicing limes at the breakfast bar as Elena went through the cupboards for the tequila and a couple of shot glasses. When she found them, she poured Bonnie and her some shots, they clinked glasses and threw the liquor back in one quick motion. Bonnie hissed and cleared her throat as the alcohol slithered its way through her system on a burning trail.

"So you're over Jeremy," said Elena bluntly.

Bonnie blinked in surprise at the question — or was it an accusation? Actually it sounded more like a simple assessment. She put a lime between her teeth and sucked before answering.

"What makes you say that?" she said.

"Well," said Elena, picking up a slice of lime for herself. "You're a mess. School's out so it's not exams, if anything was going on with your magic all of us would know, you told me you spoke to your mom yesterday and everything was fine. That leaves boys problems. And you never looked like this about Jeremy."

Bonnie nodded her head slowly, picking at an imaginary crumb on the breakfast bar, saying nothing.

"So you're over him," prompted Elena. She gentled her tone. "It's OK, Bonnie, I'm not going to get mad. I never expected you to wait for him forever."

"It's more than being over him," said Bonnie. "It's more like … I'm over who I was when I was with him."

Elena furrowed her eyebrows as she poured a couple of more shots. They clinked glasses again, gulped the tequila in one go and Elena hacked as she reached for another lime slice. "And who were you when you were with him?"

Bonnie paused. "I was scared."

"Bonnie, you're the bravest person I know. You've always been the bravest person I've known."

"Well I was brave for others then. Not myself. That's changed now."

"Because of this new guy?"

Bonnie flicked her eyes upward to gauge Elena's expression; it was interested, involved. "He sort of brought that out in me, yeah," she said.

"So what's the problem?"

"It's complicated. I'm complicated when I'm with him and I hate it." Bonnie sighed. "But I can't let it go. Even when I end things with him."

Elena made a noise in assent, like she knew exactly what Bonnie was talking about. Bonnie searched Elena's face once more, at the misery in her eyes, the sadness that pulled at the corner of her lips. "Stefan," she said and before Elena could say anything, Bonnie shrugged. "I didn't look like this with Jeremy, you've never looked like this about Damon. Unless you did when he was in the nineties, I wouldn't know."

"I was a mess when Damon was gone," she said. "It was like the world didn't make sense anymore so I created my own to deal with it. But honestly, I think I went off the deep end the way I did because Stefan wasn't there to help me through it, you know? I mean, I never want to go through that again, really thinking that Damon is dead because that killed me but … I was lost because I didn't have Stefan, whenever Stefan isn't in my life, I fall apart."

"He's in your life now," said Bonnie.

"Not completely," she whispered. "Not the way I want him to be." Elena pressed her lips together and then looked at Bonnie shyly. "How terrible do you think I am? I know it looks like I'm just going back and forth between them…"

Bonnie shook her head. "After a while we all saw what it was you saw in Damon," she said. "But I think we all knew that Stefan was the one you were meant to be with."

Elena didn't say anything for a minute and then she spoke. "Is it Damon? The new guy?"

Bonnie choked midway through doing another shot. "Wow," she said, coughing. She put the glass on the breakfast bar. "You must be drunk."

"He loves you, you know. The possibility isn't completely ridiculous."

"You're the one he's in love with," said Bonnie.

"And you mean something to him that I never did. I wouldn't be angry with you. Who am I to judge?"

"Trust me, Elena, it isn't Damon."

There was silence and then —

The sound of the front door opening with a creak. Bonnie told Elena she'd see who it was and walked swiftly back into the foyer.

"Stefan?" she said.

He jerked his head, surprised to see her in his house. "Bonnie?"

Suddenly there were footsteps coming from the kitchen, urgent and eager. "Hey, is that — _Kai?"_

Seemingly out of nowhere Kai had appeared behind Stefan, just outside the doorway. "Elena," he said courteously.

There was a beat before anyone did anything and then Kai and Stefan moved at once in a whisper of speed. Stefan put himself in front of Elena, holding her by the hand and shielding her from the direction of the door while Kai simply moved to be inside the house before anyone could physically lock him out or say a spell. He looked at Stefan.

"Relax, I'm not here for Elena." He stretched his head so he could glimpse Elena behind Stefan's broad shoulders. "Looks like you traded up. Nice."

"What the hell are you doing here, Kai?" said Stefan.

"I'm here for Bonnie."

 _"No,"_ said Elena.

Kai rolled his eyes. "You're human again." His tone was condescending and patient as if he were explaining something simple to an over-emotional child. "You couldn't stop me from doing what I wanted."

"No, but I could," said Stefan.

"The Good Salvatore," said Kai, raising his eyebrows appraisingly. "I would love to see if I could eviscerate you quicker than your brother but I don't care to do that right now. I want to speak to Bonnie and I _will_ kill anyone who tries to stop me."

Stefan bristled but Bonnie put her hand up; he was strong but Kai was stronger — a witch, a vampire _and_ a psychopath… Stefan wouldn't win.

"It's fine, I'll talk to him," said Bonnie.

Elena looked alarmed. "Bonnie, I don't trust him with you alone."

"The last time you said that to me I ended up stabbing him and leaving him to die in a hell dimension. I think I'll be fine."

"Yeah," said Kai. "She could totally take me." He paused. "And has. Repeatedly."

"Shut up, Kai," said Bonnie, snapping her head toward him.

"No but Bonnie—" Elena waved her over. Bonnie shot Kai another dirty look and then walked toward her. "I don't like this," said Elena. "His clothes are covered in blood and he looks — he's still hungry, I can tell. I had that same look when I first turned, like nothing would fill me. Right, Stefan?" No answer. "Stefan?"

But Stefan still didn't respond; he stared at Kai with a knowing look in his eye, his eyebrows furrowed. "This isn't the same thing," he said quietly.

"What do you mean?" said Elena.

Stefan turned to her. "Not all blood is the same. When I tasted yours when we were together … nothing else compared to it, nothing else satisfied me the way yours did. One drop from your finger did more for me than an entire blood bag. I _hungered_ for you."

Elena's lips parted at his words and before she could stop herself, she sighed slowly and with aching; she sighed with the memory of how entwined they were in that moment when he drank from her palm.

Stefan continued. "And Kai…"

"Kai what? You're saying he's hungering? But who would he be…" Elena looked at Bonnie, horrified comprehension dawning her face. "Bonnie?"

"I don't have time for this, you can judge her later," said Kai sharply. _"Bonnie."_ His tone was demanding but her name was a plea.

Elena spoke. "Shut up, Kai."

He clenched his jaw dangerously and Bonnie closed her eyes. She could feel it — Kai's irritated impatience. Somehow her body was always attuned to his moods, to his own inner-sensations; the connection would be cosmic if it didn't feel so hedonistic. His impatience was slowly burning way to anger and once it did that, his anger would quickly give way to rage and Bonnie knew that once enraged, he'd make do on his threat and kill someone if he wasn't alone with her and that knowledge flooded her with an all too familiar mixture of guilt, arousal, flattery and disgust. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

"You two should go upstairs." Before either Stefan or Elena could protest, Bonnie shook her head. "He won't leave and he isn't bluffing. He really will kill one of you or both of you if you don't go."

"I don't like this," said Stefan.

It took everything in Bonnie to not roll her eyes. "You're just upstairs. You'll be able to hear if anything goes wrong."

"You should trust her to make her own choices," said Kai.

Stefan narrowed his eyes, glaring at Kai but he touched Elena's shoulder and then move d to walk up the stairs. Elena looked at Bonnie.

"I'll be fine," she said again.

Elena pulled her mouth to the side and then followed Stefan up the staircase. When Bonnie saw their silhouettes disappear down the hallway, she turned back to Kai and charged at him, pushing him hard so that he staggered back and hit the wall behind him. She screamed in his face.

 _"How many times do I have to tell you to stop threatening my friends?"_

"How many times do I have to tell _you_ that I don't do what you say?"

"Clearly," said Bonnie, gesticulating wildly. "Or else you wouldn't be here."

"I wouldn't be here if you didn't keep running away every time you let yourself enjoy us."

"I _don't_ enjoy us."

"How many times do you think you'll have to tell yourself that before you'll actually believe it?"

"Right because _I'm_ the delusional one here," said Bonnie, bitter sarcasm in her voice. She groaned. "I _swear,_ Kai, I can't keep doing this!"

"You're doing this to yourself. Stop running away, it's getting old."

"I'm not the one who needs to stop! I'm not the one who needs to believe what I tell you! I'm not the one —" Bonnie cut herself off and sighed harshly. "How many times will I have to leave before you'll just let me be?"

"There isn't a number for that, Bon, and you know it. You've always known it. You've always revelled in it."

Bonnie didn't say anything but just motioned wordlessly and then put her hands to her head in exasperation, clutching her hair in her fists. Kai pushed off from the wall and started walking around the foyer, taking in the house, his eyes landing on an old photo of Damon and Stefan with their arms across each other's shoulders. "I hate that you always come here," he said.

It was like something in Bonnie erupted. _"Then go!"_ The entire house echoed with her words, the floors and walls and ceilings reverberating with her anger as if they were infused with her frustration.

"No," said Kai simply.

"Fine, then I'll leave." Bonnie started to walk past Kai to the door but he grabbed her by the wrist and roughly pulled her back so that she was in front of him again, their faces only a whisper away from one another; Bonnie's breath caught in her throat. Her lips swelled. She felt her heart thud frantically against her chest and her skin prickle pleasantly at the sensation of Kai's hand on her wrist, his lips only inches away from hers, his eyes dark and red with furious desire … She slapped him then. She slapped him so hard against the face that his lip cut against his teeth, leaving a gash, and her wrist was freed from his grasp. He made a noise like a growl, a deep grumble in his chest and took her by the arms and moved so that they sped across the foyer and into the living room, her back slamming against a wall, his body slamming against hers.

Upstairs Stefan sat on the edge of his bed, his arms folded and his face taut with concentration as Elena stood by the half-open door, her eyes still as she listened. "I don't even need enhanced hearing to hear what's going on down there," she said.

"They're definitely loud," Stefan agreed.

She looked at him and moved her hair away from her face. "Did we ever fight like that?"

Stefan paused for a minute as if he were flipping through the pages of his memory, searching through their history, their relationship. He cleared his throat. "I do distinctly remember you punching me in the face."

Elena opened her mouth in amused incredulity. "That doesn't count!"

"Of course it counts," said Stefan, a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

"I'd just gotten my humanity back! I wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind, Stefan."

He shrugged. "Still counts."

"Fine," said Elena. "You bit me. And called me a blood bag. And nearly drove me off Wickery Bridge."

"Yeah there were many times I crossed the line with you," said Stefan.

Elena tilted her head sympathetically at his sombre tone and walked toward the bed so that she sat next to him. "I don't hold any of it against you, you know that right?"

"Well that's what you do," said Stefan. "You forgive. It doesn't make any of it OK. I know I won't ever be OK with what I did to you back then." Pain clouded Stefan's eyes and shame etched the lines of his face, making him lower his head. Elena put her hand on his. She couldn't stand to see him suffer — she never could. When she'd been devastated with visions of him drowning, it had been one of the worst physical experiences she'd ever been through; seeing his pain, _feeling_ his torment had hurt her beyond imagining … all she'd wanted to do was reach out to him, save him, comfort him, have him safely in her arms. That was all she wanted to do now too and she tightened her hold on him.

"Do you know what it is you do?" she said. "You help people. Protect them. And that's what you did. Everything that happened happened because you saved Damon. How could I hate you for that? How could I not love you for that? Stefan …"

He raised his head so he could look at her. His eyes moved slowly back and forth, drinking in her features, her expression; his gaze intense and unyielding and full of everything he'd wanted to say to her for months. He swallowed hard, moving his hand so their fingers could interlink, his index finger stroking hers, her thumb caressing his palm, and he watched as Elena's cheeks flushed a faint red she stared fixedly back at him, holding his gaze, her own eyes shining with longing.

There was a yell that seemed to shake the foundation of the mansion itself.

 _"Kai, let me go!"_

He tightened his grip so that his hands were white with effort and he pinned Bonnie even harder to the wall. "Make me."

Bonnie tried not to grit her teeth with pain and glared at him. "What?"

"You could make me let go if you wanted to. You have the power to set me on fire, give me an aneurysm. You could do anything you wanted to me but you're _not because you want this!"_

Bonnie jutted her head forward as much she could, her face contorted with malicious anger. "How many times do you think you'll have to tell yourself that before you'll actually believe it?"

Quickly, Kai clasped his hand around Bonnie's throat and sharply moved her head to the side, leaning in so that his nose nuzzled her neck. As his hand slipped down to her chest, Bonnie could feel his fangs gently graze her skin and she swallowed hard, pressing her lips together. She felt his tongue and she tilted her head to give his mouth better access; the movement was infinitesimal but it was enough to make Kai grin and he started kissing her neck. Bonnie let out a little gasp and then she squeezed her eyes shut.

"No."

She lifted her arms in a rapid motion and then brought her fists swiftly down onto Kai's wrists, forcing him to release her from his hold. She pushed him for a second time so that she could move away from the wall and into the middle of the living room.

"Get out, Kai. Get. Out. I meant it when I said we were done."

"You always mean it and you always end up in my bed a day or two days or a week later. Face facts, Bonnie, _we're never done."_

Bonnie let out a yell of aggravation and glared at Kai, mustering all the magic she could so that she felt it in her veins, felt it on her skin, felt it electrify her fingertips. Kai fell to his knees and put both hands to his temples, pressing in his fingers, and he groaned in agony, rocking his head back and forth. Bonnie stood in front of him, her breathing ragged, vicious satisfaction crashing over her, chaos and violence and anger and guilt a confused mess roiling in her gut. Finally, Kai muttered something and Bonnie knew the spell was lifted. He got up to his feet but she extended her arm and he was thrown back onto the floor, glass shards from the chandelier flew away from the light and pierced different parts of his body so that he yelped with each cut until he started laughing; a harsh, humourless sound.

"You can hurt me, you can beat me, you can even kill me, Bonnie, but you won't ever stop wanting me. You will never escape this."

She lowered her arm and rushed toward him, grabbing him by his shirt and hauling him back up to his feet, giving no thought to the wounds she inflicted on him and how her rough treatment of his body wounded him further. "Why does this matter to you so much? Why can't you find someone else to torment?"

"I don't want anyone else."

 _"Why not?_ There are other women—"

"Not like you."

"Not like me _what."_

"No one drives me crazy like you. No one aggravates me like you, agitates me like you. No one makes me _hate_ you like you."

"But _why?"_

"Dammit, Bonnie, isn't it obvious? I love you."

Bonnie slapped him and the sound popped in the air like a firecracker. Her handprint was red on Kai's face. He turned back to look at her. "I'm not kidding, Bonnie. I love you."

She slapped him again so that the cut she made on his bottom lip split open again and blood came oozing out. Kai turned to her once more. "You can keep slapping me but it doesn't change anything, I love—"

Bonnie slapped him before he could finish his sentence. She slapped him again. And again. And —

She moved to strike him but Kai caught her by the wrist and thrust her hand down then grabbed her by the back of her head and pushed her to him so their lips collided with each other. Kai kissed her with a passion that incensed the blood, his hands sliding down from her head to her shoulder, his fingers sliding up the side of her neck. Bonnie's fingernails clutching his back, itching to shred through his shirt. "I do," said Kai between kisses, his voice husky and strangled. "I love you, I do."

Kai's words echoed in Stefan's ears and he smiled sadly.

"What is it?" said Elena. "What's going on?"

"He, uh …" Stefan laughed. "He's telling her he loves her."

Elena raised her eyebrows. "Oh," she said. "Well that's um … huh …Kai in love … well does Bonnie believe him?"

"I don't know."

"Do you believe him? Like believe that he could change?"

Stefan didn't say anything for a moment and then spoke as if he were weighing his words carefully. "I guess I believe anything after seeing what you did for Damon," he said. "You got him to love. Really love." He paused. "You got _me_ to love."

Elena bit her bottom lip and looked away so that her hair shielded her face from Stefan's gaze. "You got me to love too," she whispered. "You got me to _feel_ , to just be able to enjoy things … that never went away. No matter what whenever I'm with you it's like …"

"Life is full of possibility," said Stefan. "Like every experience we have is that much better just because we were together."

Elena turned sharply toward him, her eyes piercing and sincere and shining now with unshed tears. She moved her fingers from Stefan's hand and placed them on the side of his face and she watched as he closed his eyes at her touch; when he opened them again they were raw and questioning. She shook her head slightly. "Even with everything that's happened," she said. "I never stopped being in love with you."

And then Stefan's mouth was on hers, a hard peck charged with four years of pining. Elena put her other hand on the other side of Stefan's face and brought him even deeper into the kiss, her mouth opening his with gentle urgency — this was what it felt like to come home, to feel safe and freed all at once, to relish in familiarity, to feel like absolutely nothing in the world could touch her as long as she stayed in this embrace. Elena broke away and sighed deeply, with satiation and with the desire for more; her forehead still pressed against Stefan's, their lips still touching. He shifted his weight and put his hands on the small of Elena's back, guiding her to him so that she moved over to his lap, sitting astride him. She looked down at him, at the eager desire in his stare and then kissed him again, fiercely, recklessly, wanting to give all of herself to the moment, to him and urging him to fall away to her. Stefan reached up so that one of his hands were at the side of her face, his fingers combing through strands of her hair while his other hand slid up her bare leg with sensual leisure and slipped beneath her skirt to her behind, pressing her even more tightly to him, making Elena groan into his mouth. She clutched his shoulders with both hands, her fingers digging into his shirt then grabbed the hem and pulled it off so that she could feel his bare back beneath her palms, feel his muscles work, feel the taut ripples his arms; she bent down to kiss his neck, to nip his ear, to explore every inch of the home she'd been away from for too long. Stefan slid off Elena's tank top, his hands caressing her sides, letting it fall to the floor and she reached behind her to unclasp her bra dropping it down to her shirt. He twisted so that she was on the bed and he was above her, kissing her throat, her chest, her breasts, as his hand stroked her between her thighs — his lips on her skin were gluttonous, fervent. He pulled away from her, his face flushed, her breathing ragged, and brushed her hair from her forehead, trailing his finger down the profile of her face from the bridge of her nose to the curves of her lips, his eyes fixed on hers with every movement. Elena smoothed her hands over Stefan's chest, down to his stomach, gauging every expression that passed over his face and then unbuckled his belt, feeling his hardness on her hand so that he moaned and kissed her fiercely. Almost fumbling with the zipper, Elena rid him of his jeans and Stefan pulled away for a second time, serious and burning and wanting. He eased down and the moment he sunk into her, he gasped. "I've missed you," he whispered. "I've missed you…"

Elena's lips parted. "I've wanted you…"

Stefan started to move and she started to move with him, their eyes never leaving each other, their breathing a mingled music, neither one of them at all concerned with the destruction downstairs.

Bottles and glasses fell to the floor with a shatter as Bonnie thrust Kai against the bar, kissing him like she wanted to devour him, conquer him, her teeth biting painfully down on his lower lip. Without pulling away, she ripped open his shirt, her nails scraping against his bare chest and she felt him wince in discomfort but groan with pleasure. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled so that her head was yanked back, her jugular exposed and her eyes pierced into his. Growling he began kissing her neck with a slowness that hinted at desirable menace and Bonnie's eyes rolled to the back of her head before she closed them, feeling his hand slide down from her back to her butt — he squeezed, making her squeal and then lifted so that her legs were wrapped around his waist and turned so that she was sitting on top of the bar with a resounding thud. Bonnie cried out as a few shards of glass stabbed her skin.

"Not very fun is it," said Kai, his lips pressed to her ear. He tugged on it and then grazed his teeth across her jaw, holding onto her thigh as he pushed his pelvis into her so that she whimpered when he made contact with her ache.

Bonnie put her hand further behind her on the bar and put her weight on it so that her head was thrown back and her body was arched, pushing up her chest, as Kai put the top of her neckline between his teeth and tugged downward so that the material tore and the shirt ripped in half, his tongue making a line down from beneath her bra to her stomach. Bonnie's hand clenched the wood of the bar.

She lifted her head to look at him. "On your knees," she gasped.

He grinned wickedly and pulled off her leggings in one swift and rough motion then he sank to the ground as he pried her legs apart. He put her feet behind the legs of the bar and then muttered a spell so that they were pinned where they were and so Bonnie couldn't move. With delectable slowness he buried his face in the apex of her thighs, his tongue making leisure circles, his finger easing in and out and in… Bonnie moaned, trying, in vain, to wriggle or squirm, to move at all. She balled her hand into a fist and banged on the glass surface of the bar and it shattered.

"So you do listen to what I say," she said.

"When it's something that makes sense," said Kai and he eased a second finger in, making her scream his name.


End file.
